


perfect day

by ozzy (pocoyoDespairing)



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Bathtubs, Borderline 2Doc? No Idea, Cutting, Gen, Inspired by Music, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23636962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocoyoDespairing/pseuds/ozzy
Summary: 2D takes a bath. Inspired by the Lou Reed song of the same name.
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals & Stuart "2D" Pot
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	perfect day

**Author's Note:**

> honestly, if you don't know the song, i'd suggest listening to it before or during reading. if you do know it, i still suggest listening to it during reading.
> 
> sweet satan, i'm a horrible person.

The bathroom, like most of the house on that day, was empty. 2D appreciated that. Russel and Noodle were out in town, buying what food and other things they needed, and Murdoc was... well, somewhere in the house. 2D doubted the latter'd care if he walked in on 2D doing what he was about to do, anyway.

Painkillers, yes. They were sitting on the rim of the bathtub. A full bottle, in case he needed them. Which he knew he would. 2D slipped his fingers into one pocket of his jeans, to make sure the other thing he needed was there. It was. His fingers poked it almost as soon as they entered his pocket, so he pushed it a little deeper in, just in case.

In his mind, the piano started almost immediately after he started to fill the bath (zee baff? he wondered about it sometimes, how Murdoc saying it that way made those two words such a huge meme among their fans) with lukewarm water. He hummed along with it at first, but when his socks and shoes were off he was singing along.

"Just a perfect day: feed animals in the zoo... then, later, a movie too- and then home."

Home. That was a joke. 2D hadn't been there in a while. But it was a perfect day for him, he supposed. It was as perfect as anyone's last day on Earth could be.

The tub was full. 2D had decided against stripping down before getting into the bath (ze baff?), and all he took off was his jacket. He wouldn't need it.

The water had cooled a bit, and after he stepped into it he laid back. The clingy feeling of water seeping into his clothes and hair was quite uncomfortable at first, but then he no longer felt it. He had taken his water-glass from the sink just before he'd gotten in, and now he filled it from the tub's faucet. He set the filled glass down, grabbed the bottle of painkillers, and opened it.

"You made me forget myself," he sang to the bottle. "I thought I was someone else. Someone 'good.'"

He hadn't shed a tear all day, didn't even then, but he felt his eyes begin to burn at that. He shook two of the pills into his arm, thought, then shook out three more. He swallowed them with a sip of water (he'd never been able to dry-swallow any kind of medicine, it always made him sick) and took five more. He went on that way, five pills at a time, until the bottle was empty.

That was step one, and step one was done. He threw the empty pill-bottle across the room; it hit low on the wall and fell to the floor with a small 'thunk,' because his throw had been weak. Only one step left.

His hand went into his pocket again, taking longer because the wet fabric stuck to his skin. He dug out the object he needed; it sliced into the tip of his finger and blood swirled, pinkish, into the bathwater. He held it up in front of his face, blood from his finger dripping down his wrist, and watched it glint in the light. It was a small, silver rectangle, blunt-looking to his half-blind eyes.

But he knew how sharp it was, oh yes. He'd hawked the razor from a crew member whom had stayed over one night, and had kept it just for this reason. It was step two, and after step two was through he'd have no more to do.

"You're going to reap just what you sow..." His hands didn't shake, and he cut deeply. One cut across each wrist, then one starting in the center of each and trailing down to the insides of his elbows. When 2D finished he had carved a bleeding, freakishly long capital 'T' into each arm, and the painkillers were kicking in quite well. The world was fuzzy, his cut arms only a dull ache; he was beginning to feel drowsy. He sank into the water to his chin, a few strands of his hair sticking to the tile wall of the bath (ze baff, ze baff, but that was starting to fade as well), his pale hands floating palms-up like drowned things above the water's surface. The water itself turned first pink, then red.

"You're going to reap... just what you sow," he sang again, this time in a whisper. He took in a tiny sip of air, let it out, closed his eyes...

The door was opening. The noise made 2D jump, but he kept his eyes closed. His ears were mostly underwater, and every sound was muted.

"Stu, I buggin' swear- _sweet Satan, what the hell?"_

And then he could feel Murdoc kneeling beside the tub, shaking his shoulder and yelling his name. 2D opened his eyes slowly, and saw the man sigh in relief.

"Thank the devil, I thought you were dea-" Murdoc started, then cringed and changed the topic. "Why in hell would you want to do something like this?"

2D chuckled. It was a humorless sound, and it surprised both himself and Murdoc. He wasn't singing anymore, but he might as well have been when he opened his mouth again, because there was no trace of the awkward clumsiness that was usually present in his speaking voice. "Go away, Murdoc. I'm busy."

"Oh, busy yourself!" Murdoc shot back at him, and flicked out his cell phone. 2D thought he saw tears in his eyes. "I'm calling an ambulance, and there isn't anything you're going to do about it."

"It's not going to work," 2D said, but Murdoc was speaking to the dispatcher. He looked back at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

_You just keep me hanging on_ was the last thing he thought before he passed out. The last thing he felt was Murdoc's hands (at least, he _thought_ they were Murdoc's hands; they were rough, and tipped with long nails) smoothing back his hair with uncharacteristic gentleness. And the last thing he heard?

It was garbled, but he thought _Don't leave me_ was pretty much on the mark.

And then nothing.


End file.
